


Welcome To The Circus

by TimDrakeBF



Category: Fiction - Fandom, Horror - Fandom, Original - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Fiction, Horror, Original work - Freeform, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimDrakeBF/pseuds/TimDrakeBF
Summary: 6 Young Men entangled in a Demon's favorite game. Chaos & Death.There are only two options, play along, or die trying not to.
Kudos: 3





	Welcome To The Circus

Nadia Hale never went jogging at night.  
Fear wasn’t the issue. TV was. All her favorite shows came on after 6PM, not the mention anything she’d pre-recorded or Netflix originals she randomly decided to binge on FaceTime with her boyfriend. They were both on a thriller kick lately, choosing anything with cheap jump scares over laughs or courtroom antics, which was soo two weeks ago.  
Speaking of her dumbass boyfriend, he was the reason she’d thrown on her neon pink running shoes, matching Nike gear and took off into the warm, almost sauna temperature air. Her “boyfriend’ had been particularly detached the entire week and now he had the nerve to take on a work trip to Kentucky. Yeah, it was only for two days, but he hadn’t even asked her to come along, or even to pick out his airport outfit. Rude. Inconsiderate. Nasty. Suspicious.  
Running down the sidewalk, head pencil stiff, breathing angry and uncontrolled, she basically pounded the pavement as she made her way back to her house. The neighborhood was small, full of a bunch of other couch potatoes that also didn’t come out after the water colored sunsets.  
Bird Nest Road. Home sweet home.  
Nadia adjusted her airpods with the right hand and checked the apple watch on her other wrist. She’d ran about three miles, coming back just as pissed off as she’d left. She rolled her eyes at the plain, navy black sky above her. “Piece of work…” She muttered about her boyfriend, Simon. “Up and go to Kentucky if you want to, see if I’m here when you get back…” She slowed as she approached her porch, starting to remember all her mistakes. Without even having to dig into the thin pockets of her running jacket, she recalled forgetting her house keys on top of her kitchen island. “Damn.” She made a mental note to never do that shit again. It was a nice neighborhood but nothing to take for granted in that way. She knew better. It wasn’t like her to be so careless.  
“What the…” The door was locked. She jiggled the knob, almost trying to convince herself she just wasn’t trying hard enough to open it. With her hand slowly slipping off the knob, she talked herself into believing she really did take her keys with her, and had maybe dropped them somewhere on her run. Much, much worse than just forgetting them inside beside her chilled white wine.  
“Ok?” She was sweaty and irritated at herself, ready for an episode of American Dad, something that would make her laugh despite knowing every line by heart.  
Nadia checked over shoulder, shyly at first, not wanting to get too worked up. “Who..” She started to ask who was there, but the ugly, fatass cat from next door had already revealed itself from behind her rose bush. Nadia took one big step off her porch and rushed to the side gate of her home. The spare key was under a raggedy old loveseat that her granny always rocked in when she came to see her. It was a stupid spot and a stupid color. “Note to self, burn this piece of shit.” Nadia lifted the chair, reaching for the back leg.  
The key in hand, she dashed back to her porch, a frantic pep on her step. She let herself into her house, anxious to see if she’d really left the keys on the island after all.  
“Hm.” They weren’t there. “AH!” The sound of her own phone ringing in her airpods startled her, she nearly swatted the devices out of her ear.  
It was her granny calling. Nadia rejected in. Not in the mood. She locked the door behind her, flicked her shoes off and unzipped the jacket, revealing a scanty tank top underneath.  
“What the hell is so special about Kentucky anyway…” She entered her kitchen, opening her fridge with one hand, her palm found the neck of the white wine bottle like it was muscle memory. “Not a damn thing, that’s what.” She set the bottle down on the island, where she’d left it out in the first place…  
“Wait.” She took one step back.  
Like they were being remote controlled, her eyes trailed to the edge of the island, where she knew without any more doubt she’d left the keys on accident. They weren’t there anymore. Neatly, the set of keys was now hanging on her key hook, just to the right of the kitchen’s entrance.  
Hair falling out of the weak, sloppy bun, Nadia sidestepped to her cutlery drawer, yanking a steak knife out with one precise movement. “Who’s in here?!” She screamed, sounding only a corner braver than she felt. Her knees were folding before she’d even got the last part of the question out. She wanted to sprint back to her front door, but her feet were not nudging. They’d turned against her.  
“Simon…” She wondered, knowing damn well he didn’t have a key, losing his copy for the fourth time in one month. “Mom…” Nope. She lived three cities over.  
Nadia swallowed hard, feeling like her tongue was going to slip right down her throat. But with it, she got a bit of whatever she needed to move again. She shuffled one foot at a time, making her way to the kitchen’s entrance once again.  
There was a breeze that seemed to shove past her, throwing her off balance. The hair on her head whipped into her face, getting stuck to her salty tears and sweat. Shakily, she pulled the hair out of her face, screaming at the blackout that came immediately afterwards.  
“I am…” It was a man’s voice, in surround sound. A high-pitched, wicked and prickly sounding one.  
“Come out!” Nadia screeched, wanting her neighbor to hear her. Standing towards the edge of her kitchen, draped in streaks of the moon that peeked through her curtains, her bones and skin frosty-cold all of a sudden, she started to whirl herself in a circle, hoping she’d catch a glimpse of whoever had broken into her home. “I’ll kill you! My boyfriend’s on his way here.”  
“I am…” He said again, sounding way too close for Nadia to stay put. She took off in whatever direction she’d been facing at that second, it was like some panic induced game of musical chairs. Nadia was luckily headed in the direction of her front door again. She only got one manicured hand on the knob before the mischievous sounding voice, all animated and tightly-wound made her halt again. “I am…” There was no mistaking it this time. The voice was coming from up. Not up the stairs, not up the hallway. Up. Above.  
Nadia’s head jerked up quizzically.  
On the ceiling, in a frog’s crouch…the maroon hair, swaying romantically as if he was under the ocean waters. The granite colored skin, looking almost too tough to even be covered in the long-sleeve, jet black shirt. A pair of pinstriped navy-blue pants and an elastic looking grin that showed…fangs…thick, foamy saliva and a bright green tongue that was creeping out, getting longer as if some kid’s imagination was drawing it in real time. The tongue was slit in the center, both tips dipped in the foam spit, wiggling like spirit fingers.  
Nadia seemed to forget the way out was right in front of her. Her hands slipped off the door entirely as she staggered backwards, eyes twitching at the sight of him…it?  
“I am… sorry about the wine.” He said, mouth so wide open that it made him look fifty times more impossible. The fact that he was hanging upside down on her ceiling was the most normal thing about him. Nadia’s scream was practically silent as she chucked her steak knife up at him. Using his mind mostly, he deflected the knife, the smallest giggle coming from the back of his throat. The knife landed wildly at Nadia’s feet, but she was already on the run. She took off for the kitchen, planning to just bum rush out of the back door and hop the fence, letting her body fall into Mr. Simpson’s backyard. He had a pool two pitbulls, hopefully one of which would break her fall.  
Nadia barely made it back into her kitchen. The tongue came at her from behind, it’s speed just as unnatural as everything else about him. The tongue coiled around her head, suffocated her, taking her vision along with her airflow. Like a fishing rod plucking the catch of the day right out of the pond, Nadia was lifted off the hard-wood floors. She wiggled and flailed, most of her efforts not even registering to him. Unphased, he went on reeling her in, closer to his mouth full of needle like teeth that seemed to sprout out from his lips and cheeks along with his jaw.  
Nadia couldn’t even hear her own screeches.  
“I knew from the moment I saw you, you’re an overthinker.” He snarled. “Let me fix that for you.”  
One chomp to separate the head from the rest of the body. Another chomp to split the head open inside his overgrown mouth, juices pouring out, overflowing flowing from over his lips. One hard, somewhat difficult swallow. Then a thud. The body hitting the center of the floor monotonously.  
Like measuring tape, the tongue went back into his mouth. He peeled himself off her ceiling, landing on both feet, her body right between his plaid dress shoes. “Home sweet home.” He inhaled cheerfully, taking a lingering look around the family room. “For now. If you don’t have any sweets, I’m outta here.” He stepped over the body, running soft, deadly fingers through his violent dark red hair.  
The mirror on the wall before the kitchen caught his attention. He stopped to check himself out. “Well, well, well…” He winked at himself, using his pinky to wipe a pinch of blood from his chin. “You handsome devil…” He couldn’t help but snicker. “Demon. Handsome demon I suppose.” One snap of his fingers and all the lights returned to normal working condition, immediately making Nadia’s remains that much uglier to him. “Ugh, clean-up is never as fun as making the mess.” He scoffed at her, stiffening his palm. The steak knife came to him, bending to whatever demonic will he commanded. Recklessly, he twirled the blade between his fingers. “And I hear Kentucky is very nice, especially this time of year…”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m updating this soon! It’s going to be a horror??? Or maybe more of a thriller? Idk, I plan to have monsters and demons, but also it’s going to focus on a group of very human boys trying to play a game orchestrated by a demon who only wishes to cause chaos and destructing, getting stronger with every bit of terror he can pump into the lives of the people he’s torturing. This little chapter was just to introduce the demon. Tobias.
> 
> I think each chapter will be named after a song I like ...


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